


Simple Pleasures

by AngelBlue



Series: It Suits You [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hand Jobs, Healthy Relationships, Kissing, Leia is everybody's badass mom, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Slow Build, Wingwoman Jessika Pava
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5795236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelBlue/pseuds/AngelBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Poe Dameron is a man of many talents. He’s a highly skilled pilot, a dedicated fighter, a passionate lover, a decent musician, and, according to Jessika, a tolerable cook. Coming from Jess, it means a lot.</p><p>He is not, however, a patient man."</p><p>Or, what comes after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> This has taken me almost three weeks at this point but trying to proofread it all again will kill me because I start to hate my own writing  
> If I've gotten any of the worldbuilding details wrong, please let me know - I take Star Wars very, very seriously  
> There's a brief allusion to Leia's relationship with Han and guess what, yes, Han is a trans woman, deal with it  
> I'm on the blue hell site at captain-pride.tumblr.com  
> Enjoy!

Poe Dameron is a man of many talents. He’s a highly skilled pilot, a dedicated fighter, a passionate lover, a decent musician, and, according to Jessika, a _tolerable_ cook. Coming from Jess, it means a lot.

He is not, however, a patient man.  

His life depends on his quick thinking and snap judgments. The shadow of the First Order still looms over the life he’s constructed for himself. Growing up with the Rebellion and then with the Resistance, he’s learned to take what he can get, to cherish the simple pleasures the universe grants him.

Poe is and always has been a child of the war, and waiting is just another luxury the world has denied him.

But for Finn, he can try to learn patience.

He has to.

From the moment his X-wing touches down after the Starkiller mission, he’s out on the tarmac on his feet looking for Finn. He knows the Falcon can’t be far behind him, and the longer he waits, the more his anxiety eats away at him. The rational part of him, always the soldier, tries to prepare for the worst, but he refuses to believe it.

He could ask himself why he cares so deeply about a man he’s only just met. He doesn’t.

When the Falcon lands and Resistance medics whisk Finn away, Poe doesn’t think. He just lets his feet carry him as his heart pounds rapidly – not from exertion but from fear. The doctors won’t let him into the OR, so he slides down the wall and waits on the floor for the duration of the surgery. He picks at the frayed edge on the left sleeve of his jumpsuit to pass the time. If Finn dies he will never forgive himself. _If Finn dies_ – he won’t. He can’t.

When they open the door again and steer the gurney to a private room, Poe pushes his way inside and sits through the bacta treatments, watching the steady rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He makes Dr. Kalonia explain every procedure in detail – not that he understands most of it, but he needs to know Finn is safe.

He doesn’t realize that his hands are shaking until the doctor covers them with her own. “Breathe, Poe,” she instructs calmly. She’s treated him several times over the years; he obeys.

“Your friend’s going to be fine, but lightsaber wounds are tricky. His recovery may take days or it may take months.”

Poe clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes.

“I know it’s not the answer you want, but it’s the truth. I did the best I could.” She releases his hands and checks Finn’s IV line, then grabs her comm and reaches for the door.

“Doctor!” Poe calls abruptly.

She turns again.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his eyes downcast.

“You’re welcome, Dameron,” she replies. “Remember to eat something, please.”

He chuckles at that as she leaves. He won’t, of course, but a few missed meals never killed anyone. He has more important matters to attend to.

 

\---

 

He leaves, of course, when General Organa summons him and BB-8; he witnesses the completion of the map and wishes Rey a heartfelt goodbye before she leaves.

Poe knows his duties to the Resistance and carries them out faithfully: X-wing repairs, training new pilots, processing new recruits, studying recon reports, flying brief supply runs as long as he stays in-system.

He spends all his spare time in the med bay.

Eventually, people stop questioning it. Jess finally drags him out with the rest of the pilots for a personal day - after a picnic lunch and a few rounds of cards, he spots the wildflowers growing around them. He packs them carefully into his satchel and stuffs a few more in his pockets. “Way to bow out, Dameron,” Snap calls after him. “I’ll take your hand, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t.

That evening, Poe hangs garlands of fresh flowers on the walls of Finn’s room and, with Dr. Kalonia’s permission, adorns him with a fragrant yellow crown. He finds himself humming as he decorates - just snatches of old Yavin folk songs, but it feels appropriate somehow. Maybe Finn could use a little music.

 

\---

 

When Poe leaves for the night and heads for his bunk, he spots Jessika and General Organa alone in the strategy room. Jess tries to duck past him in the dimly lit corridor, but he reaches for her arm.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Poe,” she responds, her eyes meeting his.

“Come on, you can tell me. Solo mission?”

She sighs. “Not exactly.”

He frowns.

“She was asking about you, Poe. If you’re ready to fly missions again. If that would help take your mind off everything.”

“She needs me, doesn’t she?”

“It’s a two-person job, minimum. Snap and I could do it in a pinch, but ze’s still getting over zir concussion.”

Poe rubs his temples. “What’d you tell her?”

Jess shrugs. “I told her she’d have to ask you directly. It’s not my call.”

“When do we leave?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“She wouldn’t ask if it weren’t urgent. Ain’t gonna let the Resistance down now.”

“Alright. 0600 tomorrow, meet at the north hangar for mission briefing.”

He smiles wanly. “Thanks, Jess.”

“No problem. Get some sleep, loverboy.” She ruffles his hair and walks away.

He wonders if she’s even exaggerating.

 

\---

 

Poe has ten minutes ’til briefing, and he fully intends to spend about seven of them with Finn. He pulls up the chair and takes Finn’s hand in his, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

“Don’t know if you can hear me, Finn, but I had to come anyway. They’re sendin’ me away for a little while, prob’ly just a few days, but I’m comin’ back, buddy, I swear. You gotta get better, okay? For me, for Rey, don’t matter, just - please wake up soon. Please.” He takes a deep breath.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Try not to miss me too much.” Without thinking, he presses a kiss to Finn’s hand. “I - I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, I - goodbye,” he whispers, dropping his hand. “I left you a present for when you wake up. Ain’t much, but I hope you like it.”

Finn’s heart monitor continues its steady rhythm in the now-empty room.

 

\---

 

Finn wakes up alone in the med bay and tries not to be disappointed. He is alive. That should be enough.

His eyelids droop, but he fights the gravity of sleep. He wiggles his fingers and toes experimentally. Everything seems to be in order until he feels the dull, tingling ache in his back.

The memories come back fragmented. Panic seizes him for a moment - _Rey_ . _Poe._

Did they make it? He’s here and in one piece, as far as he knows, so Rey must have survived to bring him back. _How?_ And - shit, Poe, he hasn’t seen him since they took off for Starkiller; where is he? How long has it been?

A flash of brown catches his eye. It’s Poe’s jacket, draped around the lone hospital chair, the leather held together by bright, jagged orange stitches.

Finn breathes a sigh of relief.

 

\---

 

When Dr. Kalonia stops by that afternoon, she and the nurse help him out of bed and into a wheelchair. Three days later, he’s walking again, albeit slowly, and taking his meals in the mess hall with everyone else.

Well, not exactly. He finds a seat in the corner and eats quickly, quietly, trying to to draw attention to himself. He still feels like a traitor - to the First Order, to the Resistance, to himself - and clearly the others share the sentiment.

At least he is free.

He’s alone until General Organa takes the chair next to him, tray of stew in hand. He starts but stays seated, and she doesn’t let on if she notices.

“Has anyone told you yet?” she asks, spoon in hand.

“Told me what?”

“Any of it - the map, Rey, Poe’s mission…” she trails off, then sips carefully.

His eyes widen. “No, ma’am.”

She smiles ruefully. “Please, call me Leia.” He lets her explain between spoonfuls of lunch until a buzz from her comm interrupts them.

“I’m sorry, Finn, we’ll have to finish catching you up later,” she says apologetically, and pats his shoulder. She adjusts her headset, her mouth drawn in a thin line.

“Where are you?” she questions. “I’ll be right there, but I need to know - is she with you? Dameron’s _what_? I’m on my way.” She presses another button. “Commander, I need medics in the north hangar as soon as possible.”

Finn’s already up out of his chair at the word _Dameron_ , but he hesitates, seeking the general’s approval.

“Come on, I’ll help you get up there. You’ve got a right to be there.”

Finn may lack coordination in his recovery, but he makes up for it in urgency, hobbling frantically through the hallways while Leia fills him in.

“I sent him with Pava to track down an old friend - a former Senator. They were supposed to procure her support, and escort her back to base. They made contact as planned.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. “Something went wrong. I don’t know the details yet. Poe’s alive but in critical condition.”

Finn doesn’t stop running until he’s hunched over in the hangar, his whole body burning.

 

\---

 

They’re still short on hospital beds, so Poe ends up in Finn’s room after Dr. Kalonia reluctantly agrees to discharge Finn.

He ends up waiting in the same chair, studying the few remaining dried flower petals strewn across the floor. He doesn’t have to ask how they got there.

He tugs at Poe’s - his? - leather jacket and pulls it closed tightly, then hunches over and waits.

“Finn?”

The voice is unfamiliar but not unkind. He feels exposed here, but what choice does he have? He looks to the door.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I don’t suppose we’ve met.” They move towards him and extends a hand. “I’m Jess.”

“Jessika Pava,” he says, the realization dawning on him. Poe’s mission partner. From what General - _Leia_ told him, they’re also childhood friends.

“My reputation precedes me, I see,” she replies with a smirk. He studies her for a moment - she’s exhausted, that much is obvious, and there’s a shallow cut above one eyebrow that she’s yet to bandage, but she exudes a subtle strength, an energy. She reminds him of Rey.

“What happened?” he asks finally, gesturing toward Poe.

“The General’s friend had bounty hunters tailing her. Don’t know if they knew about her new Resistance ties, but we tried to run before things got ugly. Mr. Ace here stopped a poison dart.” She pauses. “His flight suit saved his life, but the tip grazed his arm. It’s a slow-acting poison. We didn’t even know he was hurt ’til we were halfway back to base.”

“He flew _home_ like this?” Finn asks, incredulous, and he wonders when D’Qar became anything as significant as home.

Jessika nods. “I don’t know how he does it, honestly. I tried to make him stop for an emergency landing, but he just kept flying, asshole.”

Finn chuckles despite himself. A comfortable silence settles over the room until Poe starts groaning softly.

Finn leaps from his chair and stares at the monitor. “Should I call for a nurse?”

“Probably not. Doc said he should wake up soon. He’ll be a little woozy from the poison and all the drugs he’s on, but he should be fine.”

Poe blinks weakly a few times, then slowly opens his eyes. His dark curls stick to his forehead.

Jess grins. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Her choice of words puzzles him, but he’s more concerned with Poe’s health - and with making sure he never pulls a stupid-ass stunt like that again.

“Poe, how are you feeling?”

Poe stares up at him dreamily. “Are you an angel?”

He’s taken aback. “What?”

“C’mon, ain’t you ever heard of fairy tales?” Poe responds, slurring his words slightly. “It’s ’cause you’re so _pretty_.”

Finn ducks his head and forces himself to remember that he’s supposed to be angry. “You could have died!”

“But I didn’t, see?” Poe counters with a lazy smile.

Finn sighs with exasperation. “That’s not the point!”

Poe scrunches up his face in what might be an attempt at a shrug. “’M a soldier. ’S my job.”

Finn takes his hand unexpectedly and squeezes. “You listen to me, Poe, your job is to _stay alive_.”

Poe looks at him wide-eyed, lips parted in a slight pout. “Said I’d come back to you, didn’t I?”

Finn wants to pretend it doesn’t work on him. He can’t. “What do you mean?”

“When you were in the hospital ’n I came to say goodbye. Said I was gonna come back. Wasn’t gonna leave you.” He laces his fingers through Finn’s. “Never gonna leave you,” he murmurs, the words _almost_ inaudible.

Finn bites his lip. _It’s not him, it’s the drugs, he doesn’t mean it, don’t get your hopes up, what have I gotten myself into_?

But he doesn’t pull his hand away.

Poe yawns, and Finn can’t help but smile.

“Will you stay with me ’til I fall asleep?”

Oh, Finn’s in deep shit, but there’s no turning back now.

“Of course.” He looks away. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“Sure you do.”

“What?”  
  
“My bunk’s got a spare bed, silly. I mean, if you don’t mind…” Poe trails off.

Finn shakes his head and tries his hardest to remain nonchalant. “Of course not. Most people share around here anyway, right?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal. Might be nice for you to have a familiar face around. ’Specially a handsome one,” he adds with a grin.

He blinks. “I - thank you, Poe.”

“You’re welcome, beautiful,” he drawls, then rolls over in his bed and drifts back to sleep.

Finn rests his head in his hands. Oh, he is _so thoroughly fucked_.

 

\---

 

They settle into a comfortable rhythm of training and cohabitation, broken only by Poe’s occasional missions, but he’s never gone for more than a week at a time. Finn ends up apprenticing with Dr. Kalonia, with the General’s blessing - “We can always use more medics, and I’m so happy to see you finding a calling,” she tells him, her eyes kind.

He even starts making friends for the first time - the other medics invite him to lunch and seem genuinely interested in his opinions; some nights, Poe drags him along with him and the rest of the pilots for drinks or cards or storytelling.

After the first week, they hear whispered rumors of the Falcon’s return. Together, Finn and Poe race to the runway in anticipation of the new arrival, but only Chewbacca greets the crowd. Leia maintains her impressive composure while she listens: Rey has stayed behind to train with Luke, but she’ll come back soon with her master, and she’s promised them regular correspondence.

Finn, too, tries to mask his disappointment, but Poe meets his gaze and pulls him gently into a hug. Finn’s muscles tense at the contact, but he allows himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, inhaling Poe’s scent, indescribable and unmistakable.

They are friends. This is what friends do.

 

\---

 

Poe awakens at the first panicked shout.

Judging from the murky darkness outside, it’s still several hours before dawn.

Finn is thrashing in his sleep and crying out. Poe can’t quite make out the words, but he’s had his fair share of nightmares. He pushes back the covers and hovers next to Finn’s bed, frozen.

He wants so badly to comfort him, to take care of him, but there are so many ways he could ruin this. Maybe Finn needs to be left alone, anyway.

Before he makes a decision, Finn bolts upright with a strangled yell, his breathing ragged. “I - I’m sorry.”

“No problem, I understand, happens to the best of us.” Poe gestures toward the bed. “May I?”

Finn nods his assent and Poe sits beside him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. No. I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay. No need to apologize.” He tilts Finn’s chin up, his thumb coming to rest on Finn’s jaw. “I’m here for you.”

That earns a small smile from Finn. “Thank you. You’ve done so much for me. How can I ever repay that?”

“Don’t worry about that, I promise. You saved my life - twice, really. I’m pretty sure I still owe you.” He caresses Finn’s cheek. The physical contact is intoxicating, overriding every rational impulse to _run, leave him be, don’t you dare give the poor boy any more grief_. “Is there anything you need?”

“Will you stay with me?” Finn asks sheepishly. “Just for the rest of the night, if you don’t mind…”

Poe’s heart races. He clears his throat. “Sure, yeah, if you promise not to laugh at my bedhead.”

“Deal,” Finn replies with a grin. He lies down again, and Poe follows suit, pulling the sheets around them cautiously.

Poe scoots as far away as he can without falling off, but Finn draws closer and rests his head on Poe’s chest.

Poe can’t help himself - he wraps his arms around him and strokes his back gently, mindful of the rippling scar tissue. Finn hums softly and nuzzles closer.

Poe prays he won’t remember this in the morning. He wonders if Finn can hear his heart breaking, but he falls asleep smiling.

 

\---

 

Finn wakes up with the sun’s first tentative rays to a disappointingly empty bed, but he finds a note on the table:

_Sorry to leave so soon - supply run. It’s nothing dangerous. I should be back by late afternoon. See you at dinner? - Poe_

Finn sits down and searches for a writing implement of his own and a clean sheet of paper. He taps his pen against his cheek while he thinks, then lets the words come.

 

_Dear Rey,_

_How are you? How’s your training? What’s Luke Skywalker like? I hope you’re doing well. Thank you for saving my life._

_I’ve made a few friends here on base, but you seem wise and I trust you. Maybe the Force has an answer._

_What does love feel like? And how do you know when you love someone?_

_I’ll understand if you can’t write back for a while. Your training is what’s most important. You’re going to save us all again someday, I know it._

_No pressure._

_Finn_

 

He folds it, seals it, and stuffs it in his bag. Hopefully, Chewie can deliver it when he makes a supply run to Ahch-To. He supposes holograms would be easier, but he has no clue how to reach her otherwise.

The letter may be archaic, but it’s his only hope.

 

\---

 

“Have you seen Finn?” Poe asks Jess one morning in the mess hall, trying and failing to sound casual.

“Yeah, he said he was heading to physiotherapy. Lifting weights, I think.” Jess raises her dark eyebrows suggestively as Poe blushes. She glances at her wrist. “I should get going, I’ve got repairs to do.” She smirks. “Try not to rip your pants. Hell, you two already have a room, what are you waiting for?”

Poe laughs along with her, but five minutes later he’s back in his bunk tugging down his boxers and wrapping a hand around his cock. He can’t get the image out of his head - Finn shirtless, glistening, flexing his muscles - _fuck_ , Poe doesn’t know where to put his mouth first.

He knows he should stop - this is wrong, he is so wrong for Finn, but he can’t help but wonder. He hasn’t gotten laid in months now, and  he’s rock hard, desperate, moaning…

 

\---

 

Finn’s almost back to the bunk to pick up his medical manuals when he hears it.

“Finn!”

It comes out muffled through the door, but the voice is unmistakably Poe’s, and it sounds like pain. He must be without his comm - he must be in trouble. Finn runs for the door.

“Ah, fuck, Finn!”

It’s louder this time. He bursts through the door expecting to find his best friend lying on the floor, maybe bleeding or writhing in pain.

Instead he sees Poe flushed and panting, his trousers down around his knees, furiously stroking his cock.

Finn’s eyes widen. “I - oh - I’m sorry, I -”

Poe’s head jerked up, his face reminiscent of a frightened animal, his body frozen.

Finn turns and runs from the room.

 

\---

 

He wants to keep running, doesn’t know where, ends up running outside and drawing gulps of air into his lungs with a startling sense of familiarity. This time, there’s no helmet, but his world feels just as precarious. 

He needs to be alone, needs time to process what just happened, whatever this _thing_ is between him and Poe. The words “too good to be true” echo in his head.

He realizes dimly that in running he’s probably doomed it all - Poe probably thinks he doesn’t want him now; or maybe Poe probably just wants him for sex; would he even complain if that were true?

He stops running on top of a small ridge, the mid-morning air just cold enough for clarity.

A roar interrupts his musings. He turns in surprise - it’s Chewbacca, back from another trip to Ahch-To.

His Shyriiwook still isn’t great, but he gets the gist of the message when Chewie hands him a small package and rests a furry hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he murmurs in response. Chewie walks away, and Finn carefully tears away the wrapping.

 

_Dearest Finn,_

_I apologize for the slow communication - we have no way to send or receive holograms. Well, I guess you already knew that. My training isn’t easy - it’s grueling in ways I can’t even describe. Not that I’m complaining, of course. I’m getting so much stronger every day. I think perhaps in a few weeks I can convince Master Luke to come back. I have so much to tell you, but I think I should save it for a face-to-face meeting. I’m so glad to hear that you’ve recovered._

_As for your question, I’m no expert, but I’ll do my best to explain how I see it. Love is when you feel warm inside when you think about someone. You miss them when they’re not around. You trust them. You feel safe and comfortable. You want the best for them, and you’re willing to make sacrifices sometimes to achieve that, even if they don’t ask you to. Making them happy makes you happy, too. The Universe is better because they’re in it._

_Of course, love is different for everyone, for every relationship. The way I love you, my friend, is different from the way I love my parents (more details on them soon!). I sense that you might be writing with someone specific in mind. I know not as a Jedi apprentice but as your friend that you should trust your feelings, follow your instincts. Please tell me how it goes! I can’t wait to see you again._

_Love,_

_Rey_

_P.S. If he so much as thinks about hurting you, I’m pretty handy with a lightsaber._

 

Finn hugs the letter to his chest and sets out again for the base, his chin held high.

 

\---

 

Poe ends up looking for Jess in the hangar, but she must have left. Doesn’t matter, he supposes; he could use the solitude.

He deserves it.

Another consequence of growing up in wartime: a tendency to act without thinking; a string of relationships, each failing in their own way; a deep appreciation for a proper goodbye - he’s left, and been left, without one more than once.

But this is Finn, this is new territory, something precious and and lovely and new, and he doesn’t trust himself to get this right. Why should he? He’s already fucked this up, probably beyond repair.

Finn has some kind of feelings for him, that much is obvious, but is Finn ready for sex? Hell, does he even know what sex _is_? He must have some inkling, but…

Poe sighs and reaches for a wrench. His engines could use a tune-up.

He’s not aware of the exact amount of time he spends with his ship, but he manages to upgrade  the engines and start patching up the wings before the General corners him. He starts, almost smacking his head on the cannon barrel, then slides off the hull onto the floor and snaps into a salute.

“At ease, Poe,” she commands. He drops his hand, but his spine stays rigid.

She cocks her head slightly and crosses her arms. Her gaze draws him in - he waits for a reprimand, but her deep brown eyes are warm.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, ma’am.”

“Please, Poe, don’t ‘ma’am’ me right now. I’m worried about you.” She pauses and drops her voice. “You know you can talk to me about personal matters, yes?”

He lets out a brief, harsh laugh. “Just demote me now, please. It’s about Finn.”

The General nods sympathetically. Poe’s brow furrows, and then it dawns on him. “You _knew_ . You’re - you’re Force sensitive, you could probably read my mind, oh, _shit_ , I’m so sorry if you saw anything.” He rubs his chin. “You knew.”

“Well, not exactly, but I could sense your feelings to an extent. That and I saw him bolting out the blast doors like the rathtars were after him again. _And_ every time you look at him, you get this look on your face like you’re flying for the first time. _And_ the pilots have been betting on you two for weeks. Don’t look so surprised,” she tells him with a smirk. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid yet.”

Poe sighs. “You’re not judging me?”

“I grew up in the shadow of a war and I’ve lived through it practically my whole adulthood.” She looks smaller, softer, somehow as the afternoon light streams into the hangar, but she exudes the same quiet strength. “I have lost just about every family member and friend I’ve ever had. Loss is written in my bones.”

“I’m sorry - ”

She holds up a hand in protest. “It’s something I’m still learning to live with. That’s not the point. My point is that life is _precious_. I know you love him, so please don’t lie to me. Something tells me he feels the same way. What’s stopping you?”

Poe runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know. I’m scared of messing this up. I’m too old and he’s too perfect.”

Leia smiles wryly. “Do you know how old I was when I fell in love for the first time?”

He shakes his head.

“Nineteen. Well, I didn’t admit it to myself until I was twenty-one, and it took another year for me to say it out loud. She was ten years older than me,” she recalls fondly, but her eyes betray the slightest hint of grief. “We may not be the greatest example, but something tells me you won’t make the same mistakes. And Finn is stronger than you think.”

“Thank you, General,” Poe tells her warmly. He takes a deep breath. “Won’t do anything to hurt him. Pilot’s honor.”

She chuckles at that and holds her arms out for a hug. “Go get him.”

And he’s _missed_ this, missed being held like this, missed not only his mother but the idea of having a mother at all. It may not be a traditional military relationship, but the Resistance has never been too big on tradition and Poe will take what he can get.

A beep from Leia’s comm interrupts them. “ _Kriff_!” she mutters loudly, pulling away. Poe raises his eyebrows but says nothing.

She barks some orders and turns back to him. “Poe, I’m so sorry to do this now.”

He already knows what’s coming.

“There’s rioting in the Akiva system and the rebels are badly outnumbered. We need to send support immediately.”

Poe is already zipping his flightsuit and looking for his helmet. He knows he has no choice - Finn must know that, too, but he prays Finn won’t hate him even more for leaving now.

He climbs into the cockpit, spots BB-8 making their way to the ship, and prepares for takeoff.

 

\---

 

Poe comes back exhausted and half expecting to find his room either vacated or reallocated specifically to Finn. He knocks gently on the door.

“Come in,” Finn calls.

Poe takes a deep breath and enters, apologies already forming on his lips. His eyes go wide - Finn’s naked except for the towel wrapped around his hips. He’s using another one to dry off his face and hair, but his body still glistens in the low light.

Poe is speechless for a moment. “I - I’m sorry,” he finally stutters out, running a hand through his tangled hair.

Finn’s face clouds with concern. His hands stop their movement. “For what?”

“For this. For what happened in here before I left. This isn’t fair to you. I promise it won’t happen again. I hope this doesn’t come between us.” He sighs. “Me and my big mouth.”

Finn raises an eyebrow. “You must be pretty proportional.”

Poe had gone over every possible scenario in his head. This was not one of them. His heart pounds. He stares at his dirt-caked boots. “I value your friendship so much, Finn, I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish.”

“Selfish?” Finn is incredulous. “Poe, I want you, I like you, I _love_ you. I still can’t believe that you could feel any of those things for me too, but say the word and I’m yours.”

“Finn, believe me, I want that more than anything, I want _you_ , but I’m not good for you. It’s been a while since I’ve had a…relationship. You’re too important and I can’t fuck this up.” He pauses. “I could never forgive myself if I hurt you, or, or took advantage of you somehow.”

Finn moves toward him, his expression determined. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Do you think I deserve to be happy?”

“Stars, Finn, of course.”

“Do you love me?"

He can’t lie to Finn. Poe swallows thickly and nods.

And Finn’s mouth is on his, soft and tentative at first, but when he regains his senses enough to kiss him back, the kiss turns more insistent. Finn fists his hands in Poe’s collar; Poe hums in approval and nips at Finn’s lower lip.

When they pull away, breathing heavily, Poe holds up a hand with a nervous laugh. “As much as I loved kissing you, Finn, we need to _talk_ about this.”

Finn frowns slightly.

“Nothing bad, I promise. Look, I ain’t exactly a diplomat, but if this is gonna work, we need to communicate. And I want this to work. I want it more than anything.” His dark eyes are soft, vulnerable. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Finn walks toward his bed, holding onto his towel loosely, and sits down. Poe follows suit, hands fidgeting with his flightsuit. Finn takes them gently, holds them, strokes lightly with his thumbs.

Poe’s hands are strong, callused, capable, but still soft, and Finn can’t resist bringing one to his mouth and kissing it. He looks at Poe. “What do we talk about?”

‘Needs, wants, boundaries. What you are and aren’t comfortable with. What I can do to make you happy. Stuff like that.”

Finn thinks for a moment. “Kissing. I definitely need and want more of that.”

Poe smiles broadly. “Anything you want, baby.” Doubt flashes across his face. “Can I call you that?”

“What, ‘baby’?” Finn plants a kiss on his cheek. “Yeah, I like that. It’s almost as good as ‘Mr. Big Deal’.”

Poe rolls his eyes, but he wraps an arm around Finn’s waist. “What about…what about physical involvement?”

Finn smirks. “You know you can say the word ‘sex’ around me, right?”

“I know, darlin’,” he replies, but part of him is secretly relieved. “Not just sex, though. What are your thoughts,” he queries, face completely serious, “on snuggling?”

“Poe, we already _do_ that when I wake up from nightmares and stuff. But are you saying we could do it all the time?” 

“That’s the goal, Mr. Big Deal.”

“Then yes. Kissing and cuddling are top priorities. Also, you have to cook for me sometimes.”

Poe can’t stop smiling. “I think I can manage that. Are you okay with everyone knowing about us?”

It’s Finn’s turn to laugh. “You think they don’t already know?”

Poe blushes. “Well, of course they do, but I wanted to ask first. And - do you want to be exclusive?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m a selfish little bastard, you know that by now, but if you really wanted to see other people, I could share.”

Finn shakes his head. “I want to be yours, all yours. Does that mean you’ll be all mine too?”

Poe kisses him fiercely. “Sweetheart, I’ve been all yours for months.”

Finn feels like he’s floating. “Pity I didn’t catch you jerking off a lot sooner.”

Poe snorts. “I think there were a few close calls. Speaking of which,” he continues, “we should probably talk about that, too. But only if you’re up for it,” he adds soothingly. He cups Finn’s cheek for a moment. “I don’t mind if you never wanna have sex, I promise. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“It’s not that. Not at all, believe me. It’s just - I never -” Finn sighs. “I know what sex is, both from a clinical standpoint and a personal one. Plenty of troopers have had sex. It’s not uncommon, and the First Order doesn’t bother trying to suppress it. It’s good for morale and whatnot. But I never…nobody ever wanted _me_.” He closes his eyes, the shame washing over him with an almost comforting familiarity, the only constant in his life besides fear.

Poe draws him into a tight embrace, one hand carding through his hair as Finn buries his head in Poe’s chest. “Oh, Finn, darlin’, they must have known that they didn’t deserve you. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all, I don’t mind. We can go as slow as you like.” He punctuates his words with a kiss to Finn’s forehead.

Finn squeezes him in response. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, love, this is just basic decency. This is how it’s supposed to be. And I fully intend to prove to you that you are beautiful and worthy of love.”

Finn raises his head and meets Poe’s gaze, his eyes hungry. “Can we start now?”

Poe swears the room gets five degrees hotter. “ _Stars_ , yes.” And Finn shifts so he’s straddling him, the towel coming loose around his hips, and they’re kissing again, and Poe thinks he might die right here in his filthy flightsuit. Finn’s cock is perfect - long and thick, a vein running up the underside, and he’s rock hard against Poe.

Finn reaches tentatively for his zipper, and he takes the opportunity to nip at Finn’s neck, earning a gasp. He pulls his arms out from his sleeves and tries to wriggle out of his dirty tank top, but Finn stops him. “I like it,” he admits with a cheeky grin.

Poe kisses him again and runs his hands along Finn’s sides, his back - gentle, reverent. As much as Finn loves it, he covers Poe’s hands with his and moves them to his hips. Poe gets the hint and draws him closer, earning a low moan as Finn’s cock drags against Poe’s clothed erection. Finn tugs at Poe’s pants and boxers, but he stops and breaks the kiss. “Is this alright?”

Poe bites his lip. “Fuck, baby, this is _perfect_.” He slides his hips and pushes his boxers to his knees, not bothering to fully undress. “I do anything you don’t like, you tell me, okay?”

Finn nods enthusiastically. “Same for you too, right?”  

“Of course.” _But I don’t think there’s a damn thing you could do to me that I wouldn’t like_ , he thinks.

He teases Finn’s nipples with his thumbs experimentally. Finn gasps and ruts against him, and _Force_ , this is gonna be over soon. He wraps a hand around their cocks and strokes, swiping his thumb across the tips and gathering precum.

Finn tilts his head toward Poe’s neck and _bites_ , and Poe moans, loud and unashamed, as Finn marks him. He speeds up his ministrations - Finn whimpers in his ear.

“Poe, I’m close, I’m gonna - _Poe_ -”

It’s enough to push Poe over the edge as well, coming so hard he swears he sees hyperspace, painting their stomachs with sticky constellations.

They fall backwards on the bed together, sweaty, sated, panting. Poe sighs with content. “You’re a hell of a fast learner, you know that?”

Finn grins. “You’re not a bad teacher.”

Poe sits up and shakes a few stray curls out of his eyes. “Next lesson: clean-up. Cuddling is better when you’re not covered in bodily fluids.”

Finn grumbles in protest and wraps his arms tightly around Poe. “Wanna stay for a while.”

And how can Poe say no to this? He kicks off his boots and leaves his stained clothes in a pile on the floor, then climbs back into bed and holds his boyfriend, his angel, his Finn. _His_.

“I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy.”

Finn kisses him gently. “I love you.”

Poe’s eyes shine with wonder. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Poe Dameron is not a patient man, but, he supposes, he has a few redeeming qualities somewhere in there.


End file.
